


is it really so strange?

by shokubeni



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hogwarts Founders Era, Parseltongue, This might not be exactly historically accurate but, Witch Hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shokubeni/pseuds/shokubeni
Summary: salazar slytherin is arrogant and thinks in absolutes, salazar sltyherin just wants to protect his own from the muggleborns, and helga hufflepuff too





	is it really so strange?

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request from tumblr at my 300 followers celebration, it was such a challenge to write both salazar and helga but it was so fun?  
> also i was watching romeo+juliet while watching this and this ended up being like so... extra and pompous lmao i am sorry
> 
> comments and constructive criticism is more than welcome

“I am merely worried, Helga.” Salazar almost hissed, words passing through his lips enunciated like a poem, balancing a cup of wine in his hand. “It’s your softness, the goodness of your heart what it’s going to be your perdition.” _And mine._ Salazar Slytherin thought, but didn’t say, as he focused on the woman sitting in front of him.

Salazar always talked like all the knowledge in the universe rested on the tip of his tongue, and always thought in absolutes. Always guarded and defensive, harsh and sharp, always so sure of himself, always so proud and boastful, always so unwavering in his conditions and thoughts.

But Helga… She was so different from everyone else, and the reason, the _only_ reason Salazar felt his resolution waver, his heart faltering. She wasn’t like any of the other three, her kindness and her infinite capacity of caring and seeing the good even through the worst, was something that would never stop captivating and _worrying_ him.

But it was also the underlying strength, the hardness in that softness, the bravery in her kindness that made Salazar Slytherin feel attracted to her as a moth it’s attracted to any source of light.

She looked up at him, and her hazel eyes shined like wax melting off a tree during a torrid summer evening. “You confuse softness with weakness, and goodness of heart for pusillanimity, Salazar.” She smiles, her shoulders moving up and down in a heartfelt sigh. “You always do.”

His jaw tightened, as he did his hand around the cup of wine. “The rumours, Helga.” He hissed, his eyes hard as stone and cold as the wind howling in winter. “The persecutions, the deaths. You’re always trying to reason about the goodness in people, but how are you not tired of discerning it between all this pain, and loss?”

It was _their_ people the ones suffering, and not the muggleborns. Sure, there were causalities, accidental deaths, but they _were_ the one targeted, they were the ones forced to live in fear. They were the ones forced to hide and live in lies, in the exchange of having their life spare.

And Salazar hated it, it wasn’t only his pride, it was how unfair it was. To bow against the will of muggleborns, to bend against their rules and laws,  to have to run away, to hide. Salazar Slytherin wasn’t born to do either of that. He wanted to live in pride, he didn’t want to be afraid.

And bloody hell, he was worried about _her.  
_ Helga and her gold heart, as gold and pure as the shine in her eyes.

He was just… he wanted to make _sure_ , he wanted to protect his own kind, he wanted to protect Helga from the horrors and the violence they had to avoid every day. Godric could fantasize about adventures and songs written about him, and Rowena could focus on the infinite knowledge that goes beyond the eye, but was it too bad that Salazar just thought about the protection of his own? About their safety? About not wanting to let go of the sight of Helga threading flowers in her hair.

Heartbreaking news came to them everyday and they seemed to be more cruel and crude at each passing day. Fire, trials, sticks and pain. _Witchcraft_ as a brand of sin and felony. And Salazar just wanted to wear it as a badge of honour, of distinction and pride. Of course they were different from the muggles, and what was wrong from him to desperately try to keep his own kin safe?

He would fight the entire world if that would make them to _see_ , and understand. Even if it included fighting Helga. And Godric. And Rowena.  
And the entire world.

He got up, the cup forgotten on the table, running his hand down his hair, walking around the table they were both sitting at, his face twisted in worry and in something else, something deeper and emotional, pouring in waves.

He watched with surprise at how Helga snorted, shaking her head, so her soft brown curls moved against her chest. “You _do_ have a heart, Salazar, I’ve seen it and I feel it every day, why do you act like you’re so afraid to own it?” She always looked at her like she _knew_ more about him than he did, and Salazar often wondered if that was the case. She seemed one of the few to _see_ him and not stare.

Before he could even notice, his mouth opened and parseltongue came from it between hisses and sighs, as he always did when he had to speak about what was truly buried inside his chest. Godric often joked he owned the heart of a snake, but he didn’t know if it was actually true.

But Helga didn’t seem fazed by it, and didn’t ask what Salazar said. He would use his regular tongue, and not his serpent one, when he was ready to do so. She got up from the table, as well, moving until she was standing in front of him. “The only difference between venom and medicine it’s the dose, and the intention. The same plant can cure a man or strip the life out of him.”

Salazar didn’t know _where_ she was getting with this, but listened attentively to the point she was trying to make. “The heart and the nature of a person works the same, between virtue and vice, darkness and light.” Her long fingers curled around his clothed wrist, and smiled like the sun raised from her lips. “We’re indeed living in dark times, Salazar, but that doesn’t mean we need to be engulfed by that darkness.”

He found himself lost in the hazel of her eyes, unable to say anything, until her head tilted and her hands moved to rest on his chest, sealing their lips with a kiss. She always smelled like fresh peaches and summer nights, and like an upcoming future Salazar wasn’t sure he was going to face, and her lips were soft and plump like rose petals bathed in morning dew.

When they parted, she was smiling, looking deep into his eyes. “You do have a heart, Salazar, and so do I.” She brushed her hands through his hair. “That’s enough now.”

Salazar looked at her, her hazel eyes and her freckled face, and he smiled with a nod.  
That was enough _now_.

**Author's Note:**

> come and tlak to me at my [tumblr](http://crvdence.tumblr.com) !


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